1530
The roads were nothing but mud.
My horse was getting tired, and so was I, though I wasn't sure which one of us had more reason to be.
From where I was riding, I could already see the street lamps in the distance. Beyond them was the city, crowded even from afar, with smoke hanging above the roofs and little movements everywhere. And behind all of it, standing higher than everything else, was the castle.
I could see it clearly.
All that stone. All that glory.
And we weren't going there.
For some reason, I had thought I could choose where we went. I don't know why I thought that. Perhaps I had simply mistaken being allowed to travel for being free to decide where I would end up.
I had been smiling about it earlier.
I wasn't smiling anymore.
The rain had started getting heavier, and there was no point trying to enter the city like this. So I stopped looking at the castle and looked instead for somewhere to wait.
That's when I saw the tavern.
It wasn't much from the outside. Just an old building sitting beside the road, its walls darkened by the rain. But there was this warm yellow light coming through the little windows, spilling onto the wet ground.
I could hear something too.
Voices.
Laughter.
Someone singing.
The closer I got, the louder it became.
I pulled my horse over a little way from the tavern. I took off the saddle, rubbed his neck once, and let him go.
He didn't hesitate.
Didn't look back either.
He just walked away, then slowly disappeared into the rain.
I stood there watching him for a few seconds.
I suppose I had expected him to look back.
He didn't.
"Fair enough," I said, though there was nobody there to hear me.
Then I went inside.
Nobody noticed.
I actually liked that.
There were people everywhere. Men leaning over tables, someone arguing about something near the fireplace, two women laughing loudly enough to make half the room turn around. The place smelled of wet clothes, smoke, old wood and whatever they had been cooking in the kitchen.
Nobody cared who I was.
I found a small table in the corner that had been left empty.
I sat down.
A man came over and I ordered a drink. Nothing special. I didn't even ask what it was.
He put it down in front of me.
I looked at it.
Then I looked out through the window.
The rain was still coming down.
I took a sip.
I can't even remember what it tasted like.
I stayed there much longer than I should have.
Long enough for the drink to become warm.
Long enough for the rain to become something I stopped listening to.
And then the bard began singing.
He was terrible.
Not slightly terrible.
Absurdly terrible.
His voice cracked whenever he tried to reach a high note, and there was a man near the fireplace laughing every time he did it.
And somehow, he was singing about me.
I don't know who told him anything. Perhaps somebody had seen me arrive. Perhaps he simply invented the whole thing.
Either way, I listened.
He sang:
"There rides a man beneath the rain,
With half a road and half a name,
He left his horse beside the door,
As if the beast knew him no more.
He came here looking for a throne,
Or maybe somewhere of his own,
But castles are for men who stay,
And he has always walked away.
So fill his cup and let him be,
Don't ask him where he'd rather be.
For some men lose what others gain,
And learn to laugh beneath the rain.
Tomorrow he'll be on his way,
Perhaps he'll find what he couldn't say.
But tonight, let the poor fool rest
The road has taken all the rest."
A few people laughed.
I didn't.
Not because it was sad.
It just wasn't.
For once, it didn't hurt to hear someone say something that was true.
I sat there with my hands around the cup, listening to this ridiculous man sing about a stranger he knew nothing about.
And I smiled.
Not the smile I had worn earlier.
That one had been for other people.
This one was mine.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
The castle was still there.
The city was still waiting.
And my horse was probably already halfway to somewhere I had never heard of.
For the first time that day, I didn't feel the need to follow any of them.